


what a mess

by plague0witch



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bromalgamate, Body Horror, Bromalgamate, M/M, Soul Sex, just a droopy mess, sixbones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-02
Updated: 2017-06-02
Packaged: 2018-11-08 03:26:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11073084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plague0witch/pseuds/plague0witch
Summary: Sans and Papyrus love each other so much.It's better this way.





	what a mess

**Author's Note:**

> i plan to write more stuff for these two- not just porn lol. this is not supposed to make complete sense, the pov switches between them constantly. they can't figure out who's who sometimes.

You love each other.

You and Sans love each other.

You and Papyrus love each other.

You— You just love love love everything you’re so happy you’re so happy.

In fact, ever since this first happened, every time you fall asleep you wake up next to Sans— he’s a lazybones, you don’t ever wake up before Papyrus— you always wake up before Sans.

You love your brother. (brothers?)

So when you hear, when you hear your own thoughts, they’re melded with his, and it’s—

_ NononoNonoCan’tcan’tnopleasepapyrusineedneednononopapnopleasenostopdon’tINEEDYOU _

You’re so panicked— you  _ need _ him, you need Papyrus, and there he is, he’s so close  _ what is this feeling _

“Sans,” you say, and he looks at you, and his breathing is so harsh, your hand reaches over and it wraps around his— your?— his cheek.

The head (your head) leans directly into that hand and the noise that works from your throat is somewhere between a gurgle and a coo. He looks at you.

“Need,” you rasp, and you lean right against the hand on your skull— “n-need, need you.”

_ StopstopstopstopSTOPITWHATAREYOUDOINGdisgustingdisgustingyou’redisgusting _

“No,”  _ nonoyou’renotsansnononosans _

Your teeth suddenly press together and you desperately hope you don’t meld together like that, and then surprisingly, you’re able to open your mouth and make a tongue. He wants that— and you can hear it, the  _ yesyesyespleasepleaseineedyouiwantitsobadplease _ and his mouth can’t quite open. You push your tongue against his teeth and an actual whimper leaves him, and it sounds exactly like him, you want to cry.

_ CanicanwecancansouliwantsoulpleasecanYESSANDYESYESyesyesyessansyes _

You’re feverish, with Papyrus’ tongue against you, dragging against your teeth and then your neck, and just as you go to summon your soul he  _ bites _ and this quiet, wailing noise leaves you, and you feel your body buck right into him ( _ yesyespapyruspappleaseyes _ ) Your soul forms with a sharp ping and there it is—

It’s both of yours, and it glows this odd mixture of indigo and cyan, melding into a sky blue color that almost makes it look pretty. Your actual soul itself is deformed— it almost looks like an upside-down heart with a third lump, like someone just forgot how to draw one, and it drips with sticky white fluid. It lands on your exposed spine and you manage to groan right against Sans’ teeth.

_ doyouwantit _ — “Do you want—” He can’t understand you, so you pull away from him and press your foreheads together. You can’t speak for a minute because he almost looks like himself, his skull is flushed blue and little pant-whines are leaving him, and you realize that you’re breathing heavy, too.

“Do you want, want it inside my mouth?” You ask, and the little eager nod he gives you is enough to make you sob. You just forget how cute Sans is, even when he’s not even fully himself.

“Papyrus,” you gasp, “please.”

That’s all it takes, because he pulls away and grabs your soul, and both of you— you arch as one, and a little moan slips past you as he squeezes. You can feel your body melting, disintegrating into more goop substance, joining with Papyrus as the little bit of pleasure takes you away.

His tongue is droopy and terribly long, and you watch and hold your breath as he takes the soul near his mouth, and the second his tongue touches it you feel yourself shudder. He pushes it straight into your (his?) mouth and sucks.

You buck straight into him and you’re  _ burning _ you—  _ Papyryspapyruspleaseplease “please that’s so much this is too much oh god oh god oh god oh—” _

He’s a mess too, and you take a second to register that, the fact that he’s gripping you and groaning and your hips are nearly formed, some sad excuse for a vagina laying against the messy pelvis and you  _ want him inside you so bad papyrus please papyrus _ —

and then his fingers, the ones that are usually clasped with yours, they’re inside you, pushing against your walls and spreading and you—

“Gonna  _ gonna Papyrus I’m— _ ”

His fingers slip out and your entrance melts in on itself, and you whine, a high, sharp noise that pierces the air. He sucks hard, and his head presses to yours as his hand starts rubbing your clit in firm, slow circles, and you shake.

“I’m go-gonna cum,” you gasp, “I’m gonna cum, I’m—  _ please _ —”

When you come, your entire body seems to droop and tense at the same time and Papyrus straightens. You press against each other as your legs abruptly turn to mush, and a wail leaves you. Papyrus’ mouth presses at your neck and he moans, low and loud, and you feel the odd cold-hot, slick texture of your soul on your neck along with his tongue. You can’t stop shaking, gasping, and he’s doing the same, and you press closer, closer, your hands link and grip each other tightly, you couldn’t wrench your hand away even if you had the sense to—

And then it’s suddenly over and you’re panting, whimpering, and his thoughts, your thoughts,  _ rush _ .

_ iloveyouiloveyouilovEYOUYOU’RESOGOODFORMEILOVEYOUcalmdowncalmthisissomuchpapSsanspleaseican’tican’ti’msodisgustingNOyeahSANSPLEASEijustloveyousomuchdon’tcallyourselfthat _

Your head (heads) they’re spinning and you lean against him and a little noise, trembling, leaves you, and you can’t even tell—  _ who am i _

You realize, suddenly, that both your heads are so pressed into each other that they’re practically combined and you-he-you-he-you wrench away and sob and _nonosansit’sokayit’sokay_ and his hand is on your face and stroking and you can only see out of one eye _no sans noitsalwaysbeenlikethat_ _ohright_ and you lean into him.

“I love you,” you finally say, you’re Papyrus. Yeah, that’s you. “I love you, so… much.” And Sans is still crying, tears rolling down his cheeks and you kiss his head. “It’s okay, brother. I love you.”

“I love you too,” you say at the same time. He’s stroking your face, and you wrap your arm around him. 

You’re happy. So, so happy.

You love your brother.


End file.
